Fourteen by C.M. Smith (short story to read .txt) 📕

you out of,” I said, interrupting him and running a hand through my hair. “This is your choice, and I’m not doing anything to influence you.”

He was quiet, and I thought that he’d hung up before I heard a muffled curse. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall.

“I can’t come over tonight,” he finally said.

“I know. You have a date.”

“Do you listen to everything?”

“When she’s standing right there and has a voice like someone is slowly letting helium out of a balloon, it’s kind of hard to miss, Evan.”

He grunted, and I opened my eyes and slid down the wall, wrapping my arm around my upraised knees.

“I have practice tomorrow night until five again, so I’ll come over around quarter of. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

I could practically hear his teeth grinding, and I smiled to myself and played with the hem of my jeans.

“Bye, Anna.”

“Bye.”

I carefully set the phone down and stared at it for a few moments, tapping my fingertips against my thighs.

“Everything okay, Anna?” Dad yelled from the living room, his eyes no doubt focused on whatever documentary he was watching.

“Everything’s fine, Dad.” I sighed and stood up, starting back up the stairs. “Everything’s just peachy.”

I nearly screamed the next morning when I closed my locker door to find Evan standing behind it, his eyes darting nervously around the hallway while he shifted from one foot to the other. I raised my eyebrows and leaned against my locker as I stared at his profile and waited for him to actually look at me. After a few moments of him not looking in my direction, I obnoxiously cleared my throat and coughed to cover up the laugh when he jumped and almost dropped his books.

“I’m here. I’m talking. Hi. Good morning.”

“Did someone slip something into your cereal this morning?” I asked casually.

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re talking a mile a minute, and you’re not really saying anything. If it bothers you that much, then go.” I traced my tongue over my bottom teeth and stood up straight. “We both know that I’m not worth ruining your reputation.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” I sighed, absently flipping my hair over my shoulder.

“Put yourself down like that.”

“Like you don’t do it.”

He squared his shoulders and jutted out his chin. “I won’t anymore.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Until Brittany or Steve or Grace show up, right? Where the hell has Adam been, anyway? He hasn’t been around to tell me I’m taking up the whole width of the hallway lately.”

His face fell and his shoulders sagged. “He says that to you?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged one shoulder and gripped the end of my long-sleeved shirt.

“He won’t anymore,” he said again.

“Right.” I snorted. “I started on the paper last night. Did a lot of research and found a lot of things that could help.” I looked up at him again. He didn’t really seem very interested in that topic just yet, so I wracked my brain for something else to say. “How was your date?”

“It was fine, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“She’s just . . . a means to an end,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in front of me.

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward.

“Ev! Man! What the fuck are you doing over here?”

We both looked behind him to see Steve approaching, one of his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. He reached us and slapped a hand on Evan’s shoulder, rolling his eyes at me before stepping in between us.

“I was just . . . uh, we were . . . ,” Evan stuttered.

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily, stepping out from behind Steve and clutching my books to my chest.

“We were just talking about our project,” I said evenly.

“Right. Well, listen man . . . the party is going to be awesome!” he exclaimed, excited to the point where his voice rose an octave or two.

I started toward the classroom, mentally berating myself for thinking that he’d meant what he said.

“Anna!”

I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and slowly turned on my heel to see Evan walking away from Steve and toward me.

It was as if time stood still. Everyone in the hallway stopped talking, stopped moving to turn and stare at Evan and then at me. I wanted to crawl into that hole I was waiting for and die because this could not truly be happening. He did not just walk away from Steve freaking Forrester to talk to me.

I was still gaping at him as he walked up to me with his head down and his eyes darting around the hallway.

“Are you feeling all right?” I asked.

“Funny.”

“I’m being serious.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said. “It was your choice, Evan. I never said that I wanted anything from you.”

“You are infuriating.”

“I’ve never asked you for anything. You wanted another chance.”

“And you seem to want the fucking world on a platter.”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying and failing to make sense of my jumbled thoughts.

“Yes, Evan, I have everything we need for our project. Thank you and I’ll see you in class,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear.

I turned on my heel again and started toward the classroom, pushing through the door and walking over to the empty lab table. I set my books down and rested my cheek on them, staring out the window and placing my arms on the table.

Evan didn’t come in until everyone else had already been seated. He had Brittany wrapped around him, and I did my best to ignore everything as I meticulously opened my textbook to the assigned pages written on the chalkboard. As he sat down, I began reading the drivel on the page and doing my best to look engrossed in the monotonous world of—hmm Polyatomic ions . . . Don’t remember anything about that.

“You’re not making this very easy, you know,” he said.

“This is who I am, Evan. Take